


voyons donc, je veux votre confiance, à quoi qu'il arrive

by malkinisms (hannibalisms)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Chicago Blackhawks, Dom/sub Undertones, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Rituals, Team Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-10 21:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannibalisms/pseuds/malkinisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scientists like to think that the differing dynamics evolved some time in the far past, at some point when the human population was at risk and the development of various dynamics assured the continued existence of humans.  No one really knows, though.  It was so long ago that it seems as though there were always dynamics - alpha, beta, omega, gamma, null.  If Patrick Kane hadn't loved hockey so early on, he would have gone into biology to try and figure it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> _voyons donc, je veux votre confiance, à quoi qu'il arrive._  
>  come on, i want your trust, no matter what.
> 
> inspired, in part, by some asks i got about tazer being a secret omega.
> 
> dedicated to [melanie](http://captainjontoews.tumblr.com/) and [miriam](http://spiritthatdenies.tumblr.com) because they are the worst influences ever and they make me do horrible, horrible things.
> 
> i have taken liberties with the seating situation in the locker room prior to 2013, which was when the blackhawks blog [made a chart of the locker room seating](http://blackhawks.nhl.com/v2/ext/Press/BILLUS-LOCKER-ROOM3.pdf) in march of 2013.
> 
> also any errors are mine, feel free to point them out and i will rectify them.
> 
> here is a link to the [timeline i made for the current roster](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheet/ccc?key=0AvsHiqsg8r_ZdDFDbzhIOW14MmJ0ZHF6dFhXaFpBNXc&usp=sharing) (just to see where our current list of the biggest fucking beauties in the league have been so far).

The scientists like to think that the differing dynamics evolved some time in the far past, at some point when the human population was at risk and the development of various dynamics assured the continued existence of humans.

No one really knows, though.

It was so long ago that it seems as though there were always  _some_  dynamics - alpha, beta, omega, gamma, null.

If Patrick Kane hadn't loved hockey so early on, he would have gone into biology to try and figure it out.

Learning is cool.

As it is, he tries to figure out what people think about why there are alphas and betas and gammas and omegas and nulls. It gets interesting after a while.

When he's in middle school, before differentiation, Rachel tells their cluster of friends that according to her dad, alphas and omegas are like Adam and Eve, meant to be together.  Betas are like Lilith, and gammas - well, no one talks about  _them_.  And nulls?  She says her dad says they shouldn't be  _allowed_.

Mikey's mom is a null. He slugs Rachel.

(Patrick thinks that she deserved it, even if his dad always told him not to hit girls.)

Later, when he and Mikey are sitting outside during gym after finishing their laps, Mikey says that his mom is a null and his dad is a beta but that doesn't mean that they're not in love.

Pat nodded and told Mikey that he agreed. People are different; love is different. What is love to some people might not be to others, but what matters is that you're happy.

Mikey had snorted and called Pat a sap, but he knew that it meant something to Mikey all the same.

* * *

When Pat hits 15 while he's playing for Honeybaked and starts feeling  _strange_  about things, he asks Verbeek in the most round-about way he can think of and Patrick hustles him off to an endocrinologist where he's tested and three days later, he gets a phone call telling him that's he's an alpha.

He starts taking the required alpha classes where he learns about shit that he had hoped he wouldn't have to worry about.  Since both of his parents are betas, he thought he would have gotten lucky.

Betas don't have to worry about scenting and compatability as much.  They don't have to worry about inadvertently imprinting on someone, roping them into a life they don't want.  They don't have to worry about everyone insisting that they have to find an omega or be lesser.

He doesn't want to be an alpha, until he does a few years later.  It comes as a surprise.

He's playing with the Knights still, a NHL hopeful, when he comes on some guys muscling Corey Syvret, trying to get him to show his throat and Pat, he just sees  _red_.

Before he knows it they're all kneeling to him, throats bare, and his teeth are locked in a grimace instead of ripping out their throats. He turns to make sure that Corey's all right and Corey sinks against him, smelling kind of like talcum powder and thanks.

They take his non-attention to scamper, and Pat's glad, because he wanted to make them  _beg_ , make them whine and scrape and  _give_ , and he can smell the anger all over himself.

Corey whimpers and butts his head against Pat's head, even though he's a fair few inches taller, and Pat doesn't know what to do for a second, until his instincts kick into high gear.  He crowds Corey back to his own room and stays with him until he smells calm and quiet.

Corey thanks him once he's okay, thanks him for making them leave and thanks him for not taking advantage when he was all up in Pat's space; he's not ready for a mate, he doesn't want it yet, and it's certainly not  _Pat_.

Pat would have been offended if Corey hadn't been laughing and he starts to laugh too, because Corey just doesn't smell  _right_.

Corey thanks him for taking them back to Corey's room, because it smells familiar and it's not strange, like Pat's room would have been.  They decide to stay in and watch movies and get room service, a luxury that they normally wouldn't have, but they figure they deserve it.

After dinner, they have sex, and it's not like - Corey isn't paying him back, or anything, but it feels good.  Corey is wet and ready and  _wanting_ , and yeah, Pat's not going to say no.

They don't knot. They stay friends, even after Pat is the first overall pick to the Blackhawks and Corey stays with the Knights.

He is fucking  _overwhelmed_  the first time that he walks into the locker room, because there are so many  _smells_  that are new and he doesn't know how to act yet, still a pup in the league of things, and  _jesus_ , it's like he's never played hockey before.

He can't walk without tripping, can't manage to stay still, and it's not until he settles in his carrel and closes his eyes for a minute that he can collect himself.

Someone settles down next to him and he can't stop himself from a little sniff, and he knows they're an alpha, too.  They smell like smoke and apples.  He opens his eyes and looks.

"You'll be fine," Dave Bolland says. "You get used to it. It's rough, at first, but you get through it."

"Thanks," Pat says.

"Unmated?"

Pat snorts. "My parents think I'm not ever going to mate."

Dave laughs, low and deep. "Nah, you will, kid. It takes time. Enjoy what you've got now. Play good hockey."

He gets up then and wanders off to talk to some of the other guys, and Pat mulls that over.

_Play good hockey_.

Yeah, he can do that.

* * *

In the end, he plays  _all right_  hockey. They don't make it to the playoffs.

When they're out, officially out, he's working like a maniac, determined to be better. He's been on the stationary bicycle for too long, his legs feel like jelly, but he has to keep going, keep  _going_ , until Jonathan Toews comes into the gym and stares him down, equally perturbed by their ousting. Jonny Toews has crazy eyes most of the time, dark and intense, and he'd be good captain material if he would lighten up, just a little.  Now, though, his eyes are big and wide and dark, and having them focused on him alone makes Pat shiver a little.

Pat stops and pulls out an earbud.

He thinks Toews is going to tell him that he'll beat Pat next year in points or whatever, but Toews just looks around uneasily for a second before talking.

"We'll be better next year," he says, "we'll get better. You and me - we can do this. We can be more than just rookies,  _ouias_?"

"Yeah," Pat says, "I'll be better."

"Okay," Toews says with a nod, and quieter, as though Pat cant hear him, " _pis moé_ ," and leaves.

Toews doesn't smell like much of anything, really. Pat wonders if he's a gamma.

He doesn't ask.  (Even if Toews is kind of hot in his freaky, intense way; like,  _scary_ hot, how he can glare you down at the bench and make you listen, even if he doesn't smell like alpha or beta or anything, really.  It doesn't make Pat hot at all. No.)

As long as they play good hockey, it's doesn't matter.

They'll play  _amazing_ hockey.


	2. one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, catch me on the tumblrs [right here](http://www.malkinisms.co.vu) (or [here without the custom url](http://hannibalisms.tumblr.com)) and follow / drop me a line / what-have-you

They win the Stanley Cup - for a second time.

Holy shit.

Holy  _shit_.

It's not that he thought they wouldn't, but it's like - how do you explain what it feels like to achieve your dream  _twice_? You can't. You can't possibly explain to someone who hasn't been there.

Jonny has been there, Sharpy has been there, Duncs and Biscuit and Hoss have been there.

It hasn't been easy. It's been fucking  _ridiculously_  difficult.

When the media finds out that they have three gammas (and a null, but Khabs was playing for the Oilers, and though he's coming back, he wasn't on the team for the win) - well, it's not nice.

It's not unusual to have gammas or nulls on a team, but it's normally only one or two just to make sure that the team lives up to the standards of You Can Play. Pat has never cared about dynamics, not really, as long as you can skate and play and  _win_. Khabs and Brooksie and Hammer and Rosey can do all that.

The management sits all the alphas down at a conference with the media and they have to answer stupid questions, but it makes everyone happy.

"Does it worry you, having someone that is scent blind on the team? That they might get into scrums?" someone asks.

"Just because they're null doesn't mean they don't get it," Biscuit snorts, "and any player knows to look around and see what's going on, see if it's a dynamic thing or a hockey thing."

"And the gammas?"

"Gammas scent," Oduya answers, the first time he's spoken the entire thing. "Gammas scent just like alphas, omegas; the question doesn't apply to them. Just because they heat different - doesn't mean they don't scent."

The media doesn't really know what to say after that.

It's on Deadspin, later, in bold:  **BLACKHAWK ALPHAS STEP UP FOR DYNAMIC RIGHTS**. There are a ton of comments, some shitty, but most are nice, or encouraging.

It makes Pat smile.

* * *

Pat knows that he's an alpha, and that he's not the  _best_  alpha, but if people are going to give them shit about having some of the most amazing fucking players, even though they're not "traditional" dynamics - well, they can give shit right back.

It shouldn't matter to people that Bolly and Mutt are together, mated strong and tight, but it does. They say shit like, "How can a  _beta_  control an  _omega_? It's not the same."

Bolly does just fine. Bolly can talk Mutt down, get him pliant and calm, better than anyone else Pat has ever known. Sure, sometimes Bolly asks him for help, because sometimes Mutt just needs the scent of alpha to really get him there, but Pat would  _never_  - not without permission.

And even then, after Mutt gets his suspension and is climbing the walls, angry and bold and full of fight, Pat doesn't even think to step in until Bolly asks him after they're dressed and Mutt is baring his teeth at Jonny in the corner. He puts a hand tight on the nape of Mutt's neck and Bolly is at his front, and together they gentle him, soft words and strong hands. The other guys just walk around them, used to someone needing something, until Mutt's leaning against Bolly with all his weight.

"Thanks," Bolly had said, and Mutt mumbled something which might have been the same.

"Any time you need it," and that was the truth. Pat was  _comfortable_  being an alpha. He knew when it was a weak point - when they were playing a rough game, when someone was shitty about his friends (his other family, really) - but most of the time, he tried to be smart about it.

Smarter now than he used to be, at least.

He had a good thing with Amanda, but - he knew there wasn't a future there. He could smell it in how their scents were never  _right_  together, not like he knows they should be if a bond could be strong and good. She knew it, too, after the win and the parade and everything, when he comes home and she's there, expecting  _something_  from him but he doesn't know what it is.

She hugs him, and she smells like flowers and sunshine but not  _his_. "You know it as well as I do that we're not compatible."

Pat presses his face into her hair, where she's always smelled the best. "I thought we could make it right."

She laughs and pulls back, cupping his face in her hands. "I think this is one time that strategy won't work, Patty."

When the other guys find out, they're sad for him, but Pat's more bothered that he  _isn't_  sad. At least he knows that it really wasn't right, and that Amanda will find someone.

(She does, a month later; an alpha named Brent who works in finance and gives her everything she could ever want. Pat's invited to the wedding and bonding ceremony. He's so fucking excited it's silly. Amanda's like a sister to him, now; they talk about colors and favors and shit like that, because Pat thinks that kind of stuff is awesome.

Sharpy says it's good he's in touch with his sensitive side. Whenever Sharpy says that, Pat pinches him. He deserves it.

Even when Sharpy turns and gives him that wide-eyed, sad omega stare that they all seem to manage, and Pat feels guilty for, like, a second. Then he remembers that Patrick Sharp is a bastard, and he is lucky that Abby puts up with his shit.)

* * *

In this bubble of dynamics this and dynamics that, though, there's Jonny; the statistical freakin' outlier.

After being around Jonny for ages, Pat has been able to figure out his scent - lemon and brown sugar and something like a forest - but it's not alpha scent, it's not omega scent, it's not beta scent, but just  _there_. Subdued and muted, and nothing like Pat has smelled before.

He asked, once, if Jonny had anyone, and Jonny had just shrugged and said that he focused too much on hockey to have a real relationship.  His last foray with Lindsey ended explosively, everyone remembers that; Pat gets why Jonny's not bent on mating or dating or anything like that.

Jonny is Pat's best friend. He just wants Jonny to be happy.  He never asks Jonny about his dynamic, because that's Jonny's business, but he does wonder.

Half of the time he screams alpha, especially when he's being captain and shouting at them, telling them to be better, but other times he seems more like a beta or even an omega, content to sit around and let things happen. Sometimes he catches Jonny smiling lazily, watching their teammates like a content parent, soft around the eyes.

It makes Pat's heart clench, because  _shit_ , that's a good look on Jonny; happiness looks really fucking good on him.

Jonny's still smiling when they all come back to Chicago for the 2013 season, because they're the champs, and fuck  _yeah_  they can play hockey.

But a few weeks into the season, Jonny misses two practices and a game.  _What_.

The entire team is freaked out and no one knows what's going on, and they all elect that Pat has to go over to Jonny's apartment and see what's going on.

"Jonny likes you best," Hammer says, "won't bite your head off."

Pat sneers at them, because they're a bunch of babies, but he agrees because he's a bigger person than that, and he  _is_  worried about Jonny.  So after practice, he packs up his shit and heads off to Jonny's instead of his own, bent on ferreting out the captain.

When he gets to Jonny's building, though, up through the parking garage and onto his floor, it's like he runs into a brick wall.

It's  _omega_ ,  _unmated_  omega.

It's sticky-sweet and it's  _everywhere_ , and maybe Jonny's gotten himself a girl or a boy and Pat's really fucking jealous for a second.

But the closer he gets to Jonny's door, the stronger it gets, and it hits him all of a sudden that he  _knows_  that smell, he  _knows_  it. He smells it in the locker room and on plane flights and in hotel rooms and in his  _own goddamn house_.

That's  _Jonny_.

_Fuck_.

He doesn't even know how this has slipped past him, because fucking  _Jonny_  has been all up in his grill forever, sharing hotel rooms and car space and sometimes Pat's spare room, or sometimes Pat's in his spare.  He sees his hand knocking on the door but it's like he can't control himself - he  _wants_.

He knows Jonny can smell him outside the door, especially in a heat, where everything is brighter and better (he was with Amanda for a few, and she would tell him what it was like, even though they weren't compatible).

He can hear Jonny on the other side, and then hears Jonny settle against the door.

"I'm fine, Pat."

"Yeah?" Pat asks, and his voice is deep, because he can't help reacting to Jonny like this, and it seems strange but  _fuck_  if Jonny doesn't smell right, smell  _ripe_.  It was never like this with Amanda, not with anyone else he's been close to. "You sure?"

Jonny honest-to-god  _whimpers_. Shit fire and save matches.

"Yes?" It's a question. "Doctor says I have to have a heat before going back on suppressants. It's not healthy."

The fact that he's talking about this with Jonny is fucking  _trippy_. "When was your last?"

"Um, before the last cup?"

"Mother  _fuck_ , Jonny."

"I know, I know, but I can't - there aren't omega captains and - Pat, je - _je veux être un bon capitaine, le meilleur capitaine du hockey_."

Pat can parse what he's saying, knows enough French to get that Jonny wants to be better, be the  _best_ , but - "You already  _are_ , Jonny," and Jonny lets out a broken noise.

He wants  _in_ , he wants to be there with Jonny, close enough to touch him, but Jonny doesn't want that, not yet, at least.  He slides down the door and sits there, content to wait Jonny's heat out.

"I'm here, Jonny. No one'll bother you."

There's another soft noise, like Jonny's leaning up against the door full-bodied, but all he says is a thank you, and then he's gone.

Pat will wait.  Pat is good at waiting.


	3. two

He makes it an hour, waiting, until his stomach reminds him that he has other needs aside from mating and knotting and protecting Jonny.

He calls up the closest Thai place - his kingdom for beef pad woosen - and gets delivery.  When the guy gets there he gives Pat a funny look, probably wondering why he isn't  _inside_  with the omega stinking up the place, but doesn't say anything.

The owner knows him well enough, and threw in some extra food; he'll have to leave some for Jonny to eat after his heat breaks, but like  _hell_  Jonny is getting any of the beef satay or the potstickers.

He spreads out in front of the door, because the door is inset so there's a little room for him to do so without obstructing the hallway.

Every now and then he can hear a noise from inside - but Jonny's scent never changes, so he doesn't worry about what's going on.  As long as he can still smell him, Pat's happy.

Sharpy texts him a few hours in -  **what's up with the cap'n**  - and he doesn't know how to answer, because this is Jonny's business, not his, so he just answers back **dynamic shit, hes ok**  and leaves it at that.

Right around 9 PM an alpha comes up the stairs, and Pat's head whips around from where he's playing Angry Birds on his phone.  She nods respectfully and skirts around him, taking care to stay on the other side of the hallway.

She knows that he's clearly laid his claim on the omega behind the door, and she gets that.  She has to, because she smells mated as all hell.

She comes back an hour later, with a few bottles of Coke and a brown bag filled with snacks.  She shows her throat to him, just so he knows that she's not trying to encroach on his territory, and he lets her come close.

"Do you need anything else?" she asks, and her claim necklace - deceivingly delicate, because Pat knows how strong they really are - settles into the dips of her clavicle. She's kinda hot, but not as hot as Jonny.

"Unless you can make him less stubborn, no," he answers, twisting open one of the Cokes and chugging half in one go.

"He doesn't seem like the type," she chuckles, "so good luck with that."

"Totally not.  I'll just have to use my charm," Pat says, and gives her a ridiculous grin.  She laughs and leaves him be in the hallway.

(Halfway through the night, Pat shifts to lay on his stomach because his ass is falling asleep.  Whatever, Jonny's worth it.)

When morning comes, when he knows that Sharpy and Abby will be awake with Maddie, he texts him, asking him questions about how Abby mated him.  Sharpy asks why he wants to know, and Pat says because he just wanted to hear a perspective from someone he trusts.

Sharpy is an omega and unapologetic about it, totally willing to talk to everyone about being an omega and helps the guys with what might be going through their partner’s heads when things get tense.  Sharpy answers his questions, being as honest as possible.

It's comforting, just a little, because he knows that Sharpy wouldn't lie to him, not about shit like this.

It's just hitting 8 when Jonny's scent - which was getting weaker and weaker - breaks like too-thin ice, and it's almost sad, because Pat has gotten used to Jonny's scent mixed in with the smell of omega heat.

It's stuck in his mouth and in his nose and on his skin, and he knows that he's going to be smelling it for  _days_ , because it doesn't wash off like normal scents do, and he  _knows_  that he has to leave, because otherwise - well.

He uses his copy of Jonny's key to unlock the door just enough to slip the food inside and lock it back up, because any wider and he'd go in, hunt Jonny down, pin him and make him wail for it, and - that can't happen, not like this.

He knows his own scent is all over the hallway and the door, a clear claim - but only if Jonny wants it.  Pat does, but Jonny has to want it, too.  Pat might not seem like it, but he knows how to respect boundaries and consent.

* * *

Jonny comes back to practice the next day.

He  _reeks_  of omega, not nondescript or muted, not like he did on the scent suppressants, but of  _himself_ , and it's strong enough to make Pat almost take his own eye out with his stick when he's taping it up.

Then Jonny checks him so hard into the boards that he sees  _stars_ , and that's Jonny's way of making sure that Pat knows  _this_  isn't going to change, the hockey they play isn't going to change.  They're still going to be fucking awesome, they're going to kick ass and take names.

The guys don't say anything, not where Pat can hear, anyway, until Jonny goes to relax in the club room after his post-practice workout and steadily, the other omegas follow suit.

Raanta's the first to seek him out, and then Mutt, and then Sharpy, and Leds glances longingly at the door before leaving to do - something, Pat has no idea what.

When he pokes his head in the room under the pretense of asking Mutt if he knows if Pat left a hoodie at his and Bolly's place, they're all cuddled together, one big omega snuggle pile.  Pat can't stop the grin that spreads over his face, even after Mutt tells him that yes, he did leave a hoodie, he'll bring it to next practice. It's fucking  _adorable_.

As far as Pat knows, they stay that way for a while, chatting and chirping each other softly until they have to leave, and it's just Jonny left in the room.  Pat comes back, then, hovers in the doorway, watching Jonny.

Jonny doesn't say anything, just stares him down in that way that he does, no real expression, but then he grins.

He grins, and tilts his head back, and offers his throat to Pat.

Pat can't move, because - because this means that Jonny  _accepts_  his offer, wants Pat to court him, mate him, make him his, and that's just - fucking  _mind-boggling_.

But then's he's moving forward, like he can't control his own muscles, gets next to the couch and then leans down to where Jonny's not moved since he offered his throat to  _Pat_.

Pat presses his nose into the base of Jonny's throat, the hollow of his collarbone where the sweat drips and collects, where it's  _nothing_  but Jonny, natural and bright.  He drags his nose up the line of Jonny's throat in the way that school taught him, a traditional preliminary claiming, but he can't resist pressing his lips to the curve of Jonny's jaw, too.

How could Pat possibly say no?

Jonny doesn't say much as they leave, just to ask if they can go back to his apartment (yes), if Pat wants chicken sandwiches for dinner (fuck yes), and if Pat's okay with this (oh  _fuck_  yes).

His plan (because he  _does_  have one, a plan to woo Jonny, even though he knows that they've been dancing around each other for  _years_ , even if they didn't know it) is almost shot to hell, though, when they get inside Jonny's apartment.

It still - it smells like  _heat_  and  _come_  and  _Jonny_  and Pat wants to go find Jonny's filthy sheets and roll the two of them in them, so they smell like each other.

Jonny must still - it must still be close to the surface for him, because his pupils dilate as he turns to look at Pat, and -  _shit_ , Jonny can look at him like that  _forever_.

"You want me," Jonny says, easy with it, and Pat blushes and shrugs.

"Yeah," Pat says, "you're pretty awesome."

Jonny makes a noise in the back of his throat and crowds Pat against the wall near the door, and normally Pat wouldn't like it, because it makes his alpha get all toppy, but this is Jonny, so it doesn't - Jonny's not a threat to him, and never will be.

"Gonna be my alpha?" Jonny murmurs, pressing his face to Pat's neck and taking a deep breath before continuing. "You - you smell like you want to be my alpha."

"I  _really_  want to be your alpha," Pat responds, bringing his hands up to stroke through Jonny's hair, short as it is, over his head and down the curve of his back.

"I  _want_  it," Jonny whines, "I've never wanted it before, even before I took the suppressants.  Never, not once, but then - you  _asked_ , you  _waited_  for me."

"Anyone who would do otherwise is a dicksmack," Pat tells him, "and should be dick-punted."

Jonny laughs a little, huffs of air against Pat's neck, and it makes him shiver, because Jonny smells content and happy.  Jonny smiles and rubs his face along the curve of Pat's throat, scenting him in equal measure, and it soothes Pat's nerves, make him realize that Jonny does want this, enough to claim Pat in his own right.

Jonny licks up the tendon of his throat and Pat's dick jumps in his pants, because even though he has self control that's Jonny's  _tongue_ , and then - 

Then Jonny  _bites down_ , soft enough that it won't leave a mark, soft enough that Pat's lizardbrain knows he's not trying to fight for dominance, but woo Pat into - into  _mating_  him.

"Want it," Jonny says, words a little slurred, a little heat-stupid, still.  Just because his heat is over doesn't mean that the effect can't still be felt.  It'll linger for a few days, make him easy and lax for his alpha.

For  _Pat._

"What do you want?" Pat asks, because he's a masochist.

"Want your  _knot_ ," Jonny whines, and Pat has to bite his lip because yeah, he wants to give it to Jonny, hard and fast and plug him up, let their bodies think that Pat could knock him up if they fucked for long enough.

But - Pat has a  _plan_ , and he has to stick to it.  He wants this to all go right and be perfect for them.

Pat would be the first to admit that he's a romantic ("a romantic fucker", Jackie said once) and he wants to do this all right, because mating is  _forever_  and he doesn't want Jonny to look back at their mating with despair.

(Well, okay, no, matings are  _almost_  forever, unless one of them repudiates the other, which, like, would never happen, because they’ve been besties forever and being mated isn’t going to change that.)

Which is why Pat ignores the pulse of his dick in his pants and the scent of Jonny, wet and ready for him, and instead muscles Jonny into bed to cuddle with him.  Jonny pouts for all of, like, 5 minutes, until Pat rolls his eyes and strips of his clothes, leaving just his t-shirt and boxers, and Jonny does the same.

At least this way they're skin-to-skin, and Jonny will  _really_  smell like him tomorrow.

Even though Jonny is taller, Jonny lets him be the bigger spoon, because Pat knows that Jonny doesn't mind him at his back.  The way that Jonny cuddles backwards, lets Pat hold him close, also makes him think that Jonny doesn't mind it  _at all_.

Oh yeah, Jonny  _likes_  it.

Pat curls an arm around him and gets a hand under the hem of Jonny's shirt, scratches at his belly and makes Jonny’s head tilt back onto his shoulder.  

He lets Pat scent him again, this time with his mouth, too, because Jonny is _all about_ this.  Pat likes the little noises that Jonny makes when he presses soft kisses along the line of his throat.

He just likes Jonny, really.  That's all there is to it.


	4. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one chapter left, beauties!
> 
> thank you for all the wonderful comments left and kudos you've given, i really appreciate it.
> 
> as always, hit me up [on tumblr](http://malkinisms.co.vu) (or [here](http://hannibalisms.tumblr.com) w/o the vanity link), or @[hannibalisms](http://www.twitter.com/hannibalisms) on twitter.

Pat wakes up before Jonny in the morning, which is abnormal, but it has to be hard for Jonny - go through his first heat in forever, get all worked up, agree to a claiming; Pat doesn't blame him.

He can watch Jonny sleep, which would be strange, but it's  _not_.  Jonny smells mostly of himself - more lemon than normal, just because he's tired - but also still faintly of heat.  All omegas have the same sweet undertones that only get stronger during a heat, but Jonny just smells  _good_  to him.

Sharpy has said before that all alphas have a kind of solid undertone, like earth, but that's all; they smell like a foundation, he said. Pat only gets whiffs of individual smells from alphas, never the main scent.

Gammas have an advantage; they can scent everyone, get all the bold notes and low undertones. It also means that they can go into controlled heats - that is, they can  _choose_  to go into heat, not so much the other way around - which has to suck, but there are positives and negatives to all dynamics.

Pat wants to know what he smells like to Jonny, but you don’t  _ask_  that shit. That’s  _private_. Friends talk about it, but, like, if you want to mate someone it’s just not  _asked_. It’s volunteered freely, to indicate trust and adoration, and he’s not going to make Jonny tell him something Jonny doesn't want to talk about yet.

Pat presses close to Jonny's back and noses against the back of his ear until he begins to wake up, slow and steady. Jonny reaches back with one hand, clutches at his hips, and tilts his head back so that Pat can nose up and down his neck.

After a few minutes of cuddling - because that's what it is, for sure - Pat presses a kiss to the underside of Jonny’s jaw and slides away, and Jonny makes this wordless noise of upset and Pat wants to soothe him, take that away and make him happy, but he wants to do this  _proper_ , wants to woo him.

Pat likes the wooing part.

He’s watched dudes woo their wives or chicks woo their husbands or dudes woo their husbands and one chick woo her wife, and it’s so  _fucking sweet_  that he has always wanted to do that, so he’s gonna.

That's pretty much how he lives his life - he wants to do it, so he will, and no one can stop him.

Jonny watches him dress, pouting a little, lower lip jutting out like he's five and someone's taken all his toys away. It's almost enough to make Pat rethink his plan, but he has a  _plan_ , and he refuses to be swayed from it.

He's excited, actually.

Jonny rolls onto his back and shows his belly as he stretches, lets it continue to show as Pat leans over him and kisses him, soft and sweet.

Pat grins and presses one last kiss to his cheek before leaving.

He has a plan, and he has to put it into motion.

* * *

Jonny starts finding things in his carrel, on his doorstep, in his car; things he mentioned in passing ages ago.  Some of them are little, some of them aren't.

The first thing that he finds is after an optional skate, tucked under his clothes: a big box of [carob truffles](http://ourkitchen.fisherpaykel.com/recipe/carob-truffles/) from the chocolaterie near his apartment.  He had said, once, that he didn't like to eat a lot of sweets during the season but the carob truffles there were close enough to chocolate that they passed well enough.

They're decadent and not inexpensive, so he doesn't feel bad when he shares with some of the guys. He catches Pat watching from where he's talking with Oduya, a smile on his face.  Shawzy grins at him, a little obnoxious, so Jonny just shoves another coconut truffle into Mutt's mouth to get him to shut up.

After a good win, he finds some Vosges truffles on the seat of his car - a [small box of the vegan ones](http://www.vosgeschocolate.com/product/luscious_vegan_truffle_collection/vegan_truffles), and an [absolutely  _gigantic_  box](http://www.vosgeschocolate.com/product/exotic_truffles_32pc/exotic_truffle_collection) of the exotic truffle collection.

He doesn't feel bad at all about hoarding the bigger box for himself, hidden in the depths of his pantry, and only sharing the vegan ones. After all, Jonny tells himself, the vegan ones are better for him during the season, so he  _should_  share with the guys.

(He smuggles them in and shares with Sharpy and Mutt and Leds and Raanta, swears them to secrecy.

Bolly gives him sad eyes for a few days afterwards and Jonny knows that Mutt told.)

Pat gets him tickets to a Bears game, too, and Jonny takes David when he's in town, because Pat likes to watch football but inside, not outside. He is very much a person for creature comforts.

They're just regular seats, not expensive ones, and they can cheer along with the rest of Chicago, and it's liberating.

He has to sign a few autographs, but he doesn't mind - he loves it.  There are some adorable kids that cling to his legs, even while their parents tell them not to, but Jonny doesn't care. He picks them up, onto his shoulders, lets the parents take pictures and gets sticky-wet kisses from toddlers.

"You want kids bad," David says in French, jostling him with an elbow. David smells blank to him, like family, but he still carries the weight of being alpha on his shoulders. "You'd be a good dad."

"That's years from now," Jonny says in kind, "and I don't know if Pat even wants kids - or if he wants something that serious."

" _Ouin, pis,_ " he says, "you could,  _tsé_ ,  _ask_  him." _  
_

"Shut up, David."

At an away game, he comes back from the shower to change and finds a little Nordstrom's box resting on his suit.  They're the [David Yurman cuff links](http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/david-yurman-waves-cuff-links-with-black-onyx/3591543) that he pointed out to Bolly one day, when they were out shopping for Mutt's bonding gift.

Pat's  _not playing fair_ , that's what this is.

Blatant cheating.

Pat takes him out to Quartino's one night, upstairs where it's a little more secluded.  It's not something that Pat normally enjoys, Italian food, but he makes sacrifices for Jonny. It helps that Jonny has one foot tucked up against Pat's ankles the entire time.

Also, there's tiramisu at the end.

(Pat takes him there a few more times, and it becomes a staple "date night" place, in addition to cheap, delicious tacos.)

Pat buys him books, too, because Jonny adores reading, even though it doesn't seem like it.  He loves the collection of knowledge that books give, all what being entertaining.

His mother is complicit in this - there are books that appear that Jonny  _knows_  he hasn't told Pat about, are only on his Amazon wishlist, so Pat must have asked her about that.

The show up in his duffel bag, his carrel, his car, his apartment; it is, frankly, ridiculous, but Jonny adores it.

The best things, though, are the notes.

Sticky notes stuck all over his gear, his suits, his front door; anywhere Pat can thing of.  They're fabulous, and Jonny loves them.

They make him pink up in simple pleasure, because no one has ever really complimented him on things other than hockey.

_Good job on keeping Mutt happy_ , one says.  _I love how you smile_ , says another.  _You smile when you think no one's looking,_ and _I adore you_.

Sharpy likes watching him, and when the locker room has cleared out he and Sharpy talk about things, omega things, and sometimes it's strange to talk about what he's held close to his heart for so long, but it feels good.

Sharpy tells him about his and Abby's first mating, his first heat as a bonded omega, and it makes his heart lift that Sharpy felt - feels - the same way about Abby as he feels about Pat.

A few times, Abby invites him over - because it's her place, really, and it's strange, but it works for them, so whatever - and he watches them as he cuddles Maddie in his lap. She's getting so big, chatty now, and he love watching her discover things.  It makes him think of what it could be like for him and Pat, having a child of their own.

It makes him tear up a little, until Abby comes over and plucks Maddie from his lap and shoos him away to go talk to Sharpy about his  _feelings_.

* * *

It happens after an away game. They [ _slaughter_  the Flyers](http://espn.go.com/nhl/boxscore?gameId=400484714), and everyone's high on endorphines and glee.

Jonny can't stop from bussing kisses on the cheeks of all his omegas - because that's what they are, really, because he's the captain, so they're  _his_  - and hugging the betas and gammas, and squeezing the shoulders of the alphas in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

They're his  _family_ , his hockey family, and he wouldn't give that up for anything.

Jonny gets a goal and Pat gets two assists, and he's so pleased that Pat will be  _his_  someday, and the other way around, too.

When he comes back from his shower, there's a black box sitting on his neatly folded suit. This doesn't feel like any of the other gifts, though, and he doesn't want to open it in nothing but a towel.

When he's in his suit, the other laughing around him, he opens the box. There's a little square of black velvet covering - well, whatever it is - and he takes a second to rub his fingers over it before moving it aside.

He doesn't move for a moment, because - because - because Patrick's given him  _a cuff_.

It's [a silver cuff, woven and gleaming](http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/david-yurman-maritime-rope-cuff/3665437) against the silk of the box. Nestled in the open space in the middle is a slip of red paper, and on it, in Pat's shaky hand, is simply,  _I'm yours_.

That - that breaks him, makes him curl over himself and let out a sob, because he never knew - he didn't know how  _badly_  he wanted Patrick, how much Pat  _really_  meant to him until just now, this moment.  Sharpy’s next to him in an instant, running a hand over his shoulders because he probably sounds like he’s dying or something and he can smell the concern coming off the guys, thick and acrid.

No one else moves to come near him, because they've never seen him like this, so fucking broken. They've seen him emotional, they've seen him cry, but this is - this is different, and they don’t really know why he’s sobbing into his Armani with Sharpy hovering over his back.

He didn't know that he means this much to Pat, not like this; he knows that Pat wants him, wants to mate him, but a cuff like this means that Pat wants to  _keep_  him for good, forever, until the end.

When pat comes back in the locker room from speaking with Coach Q, all smiles and sharp lines in his suit, Jonny can't stop it when he looks up and catches his eyes, so  _fucking_  blue in that moment, and sobs out, "Alpha,  _please_."

He holds out his wrist and the box and Pat’s there in a second, hurridly slipping it on and closing it and then shushing him, hand rubbing over his shoulders and down his back, letting Jonny get it out. His fingers are a solid weight on his back, his nose buried in Jonny's hair, what little there is.

(And if any of the guys say that they weren't a little teary then they are  _lying sonsabitches_  because there wasn't a dry eye in the house.)

When Jonny pulls away he’s smiling, and Pat’s smiling, and the guys are smiling, and this is what family is,  _this_ , right here; it's not just what you were born into, but the people that choose you, and the people you  _choose_.

* * *

The instant that Pat gets them back to his hotel room, Jonny's scrabbling at his button-down, trying to get Pat out of his clothes and naked, because he  _needs_ , he needs Pat like he needs air to breathe.

Pat lets him, smiling and laughing, helping out when Jonny gets stuck on his belt and his cuffs.

Once Pat's naked, he does the same for Jonny, gets him bare, and Pat can smell him  _all over_ , thick and heady and  _his_.

"Pat," Jonny says, sprawled out on the bed on his belly, hips hitched up, and Pat knows that Jonny thinks that Pat's gonna knot him tonight.

"I know, babe," he says, and he stands at the edge of the bed, just looking, watching the stretch of Jonny's skin over his muscles as he slides his knees under him, cants his hips down.  His dick is harder than anything Pat's ever seen, and Pat loves that this is for  _him_.

"Please," Jonny says, eyes wide, mouth open, cheeks flushed.

"Anything," Pat answers, clambers onto the bed behind him and sets a hand on the small of his back, feeling up his spine and the knobs of bone, over the wings of his shoulder blades and over the curve of his ribs.

He loves the taper between Jonny's shoulders and his hips, the flare of his ass and the thickness of his thighs, and he tells him this, a running commentary as he strokes him with his hands, trying to memorize his body.

Jonny relaxes by degrees until he's not curled and desperate with want, but pliant and willing to take what Pat will offer him. He's breathing deep, his head turned to the side so he can watch Pat, his left wrist tucked under his chest, cuff against the beating of his heart.

"You know I won't knot you until after the ceremony," Pat says softly, and Jonny nods, though he doesn't look entirely pleased about it. "Soon, baby."

Jonny smiles. "Promise?"

"I promise," Pat answers, slots a messy kiss on the dimples in his back.

No knotting, though, doesn't mean that Pat can't get Jonny begging for him, though.

He's already wet and leaking, and it still stuns Pat to know that Jonny accepts him so easily, so readily.  It's partially biology, partially psychology; Jonny's body recognizes Pat as  _alpha,_ as  _mate_ , but the other part is all Jonny's own want for Pat, and who knows how long they've been dancing around each other like this, waiting for someone to make a move? _  
_

Pat shivers, because imagine if they had done this earlier - Pat could have had Jonny  _this entire time_.

"You wanna come?" Pat asks, smiling against Jonny's skin.

" _Ouais_ ," Jonny says, "please?"

"No, I'm gonna make you wait," Pat says, rolls his eyes, and nips at Jonny's hip.

"Shut up," Jonny fires back, wiggling his hips, "you could decide to not let me come."

"Not today," Pat says with a smile, "but maybe someday."

"Fine with me," Jonny says, with another wiggle of his hips, "but now?"

"Yeah, yeah,  _pushy_ ," Pat mocks, but kisses the dimples of his back nonetheless.

He's wet and sloppy and only gets  _messier_ , and Pat can't resist sneaking a taste, but the reaction he gets - a moan and Jonny pushing his hips back for more, had him two fingers and his tongue deep in Jonny in  _no time_ , because Jonny's loose and ready.

Jonny hasn't stopped making noise against the bed, little sighs and whimpers, Pat's name mixed in, and every now and then, "alpha."

Pat gets him on edge, finds his prostate and teases it, brings him close several times until Jonny is  _sobbing_ , begging for more fingers, his tongue, his  _knot_ , anything.

Pat would give it to him if he didn't know how much it would mean to himself - to Jonny - to wait until the night of the ceremony. It's old-school, but Pat's traditional in a lot of ways. Jonny likes him that way.

Finally, Pat can't - he can't wait any longer, has to make Jonny come.  He has to make it happen,  _right fucking then_ , no matter what.

He pulls away, lips and chin damp, plasters himself to Jonny's back, ignoring the urge to slip inside of Jonny and knot him, and rasps into Jonny's ear, "You have my permission to come."

Jonny nods and Pat slides down his back, shoves his face up against Pat's ass again, tongue fucks him in earnest until Jonny tightens up on his fingers and  _wails_  as he comes. the whole room smells like slick and come and  _them_ , warm and delicious.

Pat loves it.

Once Jonny has calmed down - only a little, really, his breath still hitching wetly, shuddering with stimulation - Pat gets a hand in the small of his back again, presses down until Jonny's flat on his stomach, and holds him there.

His mouth has a mind of its own, and he can't stop talking as he jerks himself off frantically, not even needing lube because his fingers are covered in Jonny's wetness.

"Yeah, you love it, Jonny, you're so good for me, took it like a champion. You're going to take my knot so well, you're going to be so good for me when we finally tie, right? Yeah, I know it, I know you will. You gonna take it good?"

" _Ouais_ , Pat,  _ouais_ ," Jonny whimpers, lifting his shoulders a little so that he can watch Pat.

"Good, good, 'cause I'm gonna give it to you, make sure you feel it in the morning, remember who it was that gave it to you, remember who belongs to you, Jonny," Pat says, hips jerking erratically.

Jonny gasps and shudders beneath him and Pat can see wetness gathering at the corner of his eyes.  Jonny  _sobs_  it out - "You're mine, you're mine," - and Pat  _comes_ , striping Jonny's back with it.

His teeth are bared and he can't stop himself from rubbing it into Jonny's skin, scent-marking him in the basest of ways.  It's rude, to do it, but Pat knows that Jonny doesn't care because Jonny's relaxed under his hands, breathing deeply with his eyes closed and a smile on his face.

Pat settles down on his thighs and Jonny takes his weight without a sound.  They sit like that for a few minutes, Jonny breathing deep and steady, Pat rubbing his thumbs along Jonny's shoulders, until Jonny squirms a little under him.

Pat slips off the bed and into the bathroom, cleaning himself up before cleaning Jonny up. They move to the other bed -  _why_  they still get a room with two doubles is beyond Pat, but he's not going to argue - and when Pat tries to spoon Jonny, Jonny's having none of it.

The squirms around and complains about it until Pat laughs.

"Fine, dude, just let me get my phone cord," Pat says, fetches the cord and sets his alarm.

When he slides back in bed, Jonny snuggles up to his back and gets an arm around his waist and a knee between his thighs.  Normally, Pat would hate having someone at his back, but this is different.  This is  _Jonny_.

Jonny smells warm and good and happy, brown-sugar sweetness overpowering and clean.  He's nothing but happy, right now, warm against Pat's skin.

Pat would sell his soul to keep Jonny smelling as happy as he is right now.

If someone asked him what he would want for the rest of his life, it would be  _this_  - this happiness that's clouded in the room.

"You smell so good," Pat whispers in the dark. "You smell happy."

"I am happy," Jonny replies, equally soft. "You make me happy."

Pat preens a little at that. "Yeah?"

Jonny snakes his wrist - the one with the cuff - into Pat's hand. "Really fucking happy, Pat, or I - I wouldn't have - I wouldn't have asked for this, or wanted this. It wasn't on my list of things I wanted, but no - now it is."

"Oh," Pat says, warm and pleased.

Jonny smells like lemons and pie and fall.


	5. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoa haha sorry for the long wait, real life and all that
> 
> anyway i've added one more chapter on to the end, a sort of - epilogue-y thing to come in the next week or so, depending on how much my parents are taking up my time
> 
> (hint: they are doing _a lot_ of that)
> 
> anyway, enjoy, find me on [the tumblrs](http://malkinisms.tumblr.com) and on [the twitters](http://www.twitter.com/hannibalisms)

Pat wakes up with his nose pressed against the nape of Jonny's neck, little hairs tickling his face. He lets out a hum, scents Jonny a little (because he  _can_ , he's  _allowed_ , and that's awesome) and extracts himself carefully so he can go to the bathroom.

When he comes back out, Jonny's eyes are open a little, watching him; Jonny smiles, and Pat smiles, and a weight is lifted off his chest, because Jonny's going to be his  _mate_.

It sends him staggering back into bed to flop on Jonny's back, who takes his weight without a word.

Pat was always a little sensitive about being small for an alpha (because people always think of alphas as huge, muscle-bound guys, but a lot of times they're  _not_ , they're just regular people) but Jonny makes it all right.  Jonny makes it perfect for them, because Pat can lay all over him (and has taken to doing so) because he knows that it doesn't bother Jonny. Jonny really,  _really_ likes it, actually; even when they're just watching TV, jonny will pull Patrick to lay all over him like a blanket.

And, to top it off, Jonny doesn't use his height against Pat like some people. If Pat wants to scent him, Jonny leans down rather than making Pat pull him down.  If Pat wants to look him in the eye, it's Jonny that looks down rather than making Pat stretch up. Even on the ice, when Jonny's captain (and  _nothing_ changes that), if Pat needs to touch him to make sure that he's all right, Jonny lets him, ignores the others around them so Pat can get him skin-to-skin, even if it's just a touch of fingers or Jonny's cheek pressed against his.

"Hey," Jonny says, tucking his chin into his chest, squirming a little under him, "good morning."

"Morning, babe," Pat says, nips at Jonny's shoulder with barely any pressure, just enough to make a little mark, one that will fade in a short time.

"Ugh," Jonny says, but Pat can feel his content, so Jonny's bitching just to bitch, because he can, and because he's a jackass, "'babe'? Really?"

"Really really," Pat says, smashes his face into Jonny's shoulder and blows an enormous raspberry there, because if Jonny's going to be ridiculous, so is Pat.

Jonny makes a very funny high-pitched noise and twists a little to throw Pat off, just enough that they're laying side-by-side now, giggling like teenagers.

Jonny reaches out and touches Pat's face, like Pat is something he treasures, and Pat presses into his hand. This is Jonny. This is his. It feels  _right_.

They get out of bed, finally, when Jonny complains that he's hungry. Jonny whines at him long enough that Pat finally gets dressed and they go out to eat at the Denny's next to the hotel - the hotel breakfast was over a long time ago - before heading back to pack and go home.

The flight out is boring - though they have to change up seating, because Pat  _needs_ to sit next to Jonny, but the guys don't care.

(Okay, Sharpy gives them shit, but that's because he's  _Sharpy_ , not because he's being mean.)

They get home in the early evening, and it's all either of them can do to get to Jonny's apartment and fall into bed after getting undressed.

* * *

Jonny wakes him up with coffee in the morning. Once Pat's sufficiently awake, Jonny says, "We should call our families."

Pat face-plants into the bed and moans, because this means talking to his  _sisters_.

They deserve to know, though, and Pat knows this.  They were there for him through everything, and, christ, he can't imagine  _not_ telling them.

Jonny calls his parents first, as they're curled together on the couch, ESPN on softly in the background. He talks in hushed French to his parents and Pat just listens, because Jonny speaking French - to him, that's private, that's special.  He doesn't do it much in Chicago, though it's more common up in Winterpeg.  Still, Pat loves it.

Andrée talks to Pat, telling him how happy she is, and how he's already a part of their family, but now it's concrete; she invites them up for the summer, and Patrick accepts since they were planning on going  _anyway_ but now - now they're going as  _mates_.  It makes Pat shiver a little in glee.

Bryan gives him the "you hurt him I hurt you" thing that dads tend to do, but Pat knows that Bryan's not good with feelings, and takes it for the acceptance that it is.

Pat calls his sisters first (because if he didn’t they’d complain endlessly about how he never shares anything with them before mom and dad, isn't that what siblings are _for_ , Patty) and they gush about it, because they adore Jonny.

(Apparently they also had bet about when they would get together and Jackie won. They are horrible sisters and Pat doesn't know why he bothers with them.)

(That is a lie; Pat loves them all to death and he doesn't know what he'd do without them. He gets a little choked up, and that sets Erica off, which sets Jackie and Jess off, and then it becomes a sob-fest and even Jonny's sniffling, too.)

Jess demands to speak to Jonny (he supposes now that Jess' pushy omega personality got him ready for Jonny) and Jonny listens intently until he hands the phone back.

"Anything she told you is a  _lie_ ," Pat hisses, and Jonny just smiles, so he  _knows_ that Jess was being a typical sister.

When Pat calls his parents they both cry and it makes Pat tear up, because he knows they honestly thought that he would never settle down, never find an omega or a beta to make a life with, and the fact that it’s with Jonny, one of his best friends - that’s just a fucking _blessing_.

Jonny talks to his mother, and he knows that she's telling him how happy she is, how proud, how much she loves them, because Jonny keeps getting redder and redder and saying, "Thank you, Donna," and "You too, Donna."

When they finally hang up - they can't do any more emotional things right now - Jonny just topples over sideways into Pat's lap and rubs at his face.

Pat strokes a hand over his shoulder, smiling as Jonny lets out a little hum of pleasure.  They stay like that for a while, just watching TV and playing Words with Friends against each other, until their phones  _ping_ at nearly the same time.

It's an email from Andrée, telling them that she and Bryan and Patrick and Donna have all made plans to come down after the season ends as a big group (and then another from Jess telling them that they're coming too, and so is David).

Jonny just sighs and thumbs his phone off, and says faux-casually, "So we should plan our bonding ceremony then, eh?"

And Pat, he just starts to  _laugh_ , because this is so them, slapped together and last minute, like everything in their lives aside from their hockey game.

After they eat lunch, Pat reveals that he actually has a secret cache of wedding magazines with dog-eared pages that he’s always a little embarrassed about but Jonny is enraptured by them. It’s a weight off his shoulders when Jonny settles down next to him with his laptop and makes an account on a wedding and bonding website that has checklists for them to follow and is just as enthusiastic as Pat is about the whole thing.  It makes him warm inside and out when Jonny squirms under Pat's arm to type away, making faces at some of the worse ideas, bookmarking the better ones.

(The folder that he uses for those is named "bonding!!!!!" and Pat can't resist kissing Jonny all over his big dumb face.)

Jonny punches Pat in the arm when pat asks if their colors can be black and red because "Our bonding ceremony is _not_ going to be a cliche, thank you very much," but Jonny smells amused and pleased and even more like the forest than usual, and still sweet, like the sap that comes with freshly-fallen pine cones.

Pat can't control his mouth, and blurts it out: "Forest green, then, because that’s what you smell like," and then turns bright red when Jonny’s eyes go soft and sweet and watery until Jonny can steel his expression (which isn’t that much, because he’s smiling and smells like sunshine and lemonade).

He nuzzles Pat's cheek a little, like a pup would, and then says, "So, forest green and plum."

Pat can't - he  _can't_ \- and he ends up bowling Jonny over the edge of the couch, laptop safe on the coffee table.  They lay on the floor, kissing and scenting and rubbing against each other until Jonny smells warm and lax and a little like sex.

Just a little, though; Pat's nothing if not a gentleman, and they have evening skate tonight. Jonny is nothing if not militant about attending practices, even if they're optional ("You should take  _every_ opportunity to practice, Patrick," normally said with not a little disdain).

Since Pat's a gentleman, on their way to skate they talk a little, and Jonny decides that he's going to take omega suppressants - rather than the beta ones he _was_ taking since everyone knows - until the ceremony so he doesn’t heat.  But with the omega suppressants Pat can still scent him, and Jonny will still smell like he should and the others can still get comfort from him.  He just won't heat, which Pat had already been used to, anyway, until after the bonding ceremony.

Once they're bonded, though, Jonny won't take them; he'll heat naturally, and it makes Pat fucking  _hot_ , thinking about Jonny all slick and needy, just for him; and when Pat heats, once or twice a year, Jonny will be there for  _him_.

When they get to practice, Mutt's the first person they see and he's all up in Jonny's space, nuzzling and whining and sweet because Jonny's the top omega and Mutt has always - he's always been the most sensitive to the moods of others.

Jonny just smiles and gentles Mutt while Bolly looks on, a shit-eating grin on his face, and Pat doesn't even  _care_ that anyone knows.  He wants  _everyone_ to know, he wants to be out in the fucking open.

When Mutt scampers off to curl into Bolly - because Mutt's doped up on happiness and of course he wants to share it with Bolly - Pat gets an arm around Jonny and pulls his head down so that Pat can whisper into his ear.

"I don't want to lie to people about this," Pat says, "because I'm not ashamed of us, I'll  _never_ be ashamed of us. But if you want to wait to tell people, to be open, I totally understand and am okay with that."

And Jonny? Jonny whimpers and nods, takes a moment to collect himself, and then says, "Okay, alpha.  I want - I want that, too. Please, I want it."

It reminds him of Jonny after his heat, begging for his knot, but - this is more than that, will always be more than that.

"Okay," Pat repeats, "okay."

It means  _so much_ that Jonny wants this, and to be open - like, it's not like they're the first alpha and omega pair to be publicly mated in the NHL, much less the sports world, but it means so much to Pat that Jonny wants this just as much - if not more - than he does.

In the morning, their picture graces the front of the Trib's sports section. They're holding hands, Jonny's cuff shining prominently on his left wrist. They're both smiling doofily, but it's their first official picture as a soon-to-be-bonded pair.

The Trib photographer sends them a mounted and framed copy, and it takes a place of honor in Jonny's living room (because A. Jonny's apartment is bigger, and B. Patrick doesn't like living in Trump Tower, anyway).

Pat can't wait until can have their whole house plastered in photos of their new, little family. He can't wait.


	6. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it, folks!!! this is the end.
> 
> thank you so much for all the wonderful comments, and the brilliant things you've said and all the kudos you've left. i totally wouldn't have gotten this far into this if you hadn't all been so wonderful to me.
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoyed! there might be a follow-up to this, _maybe_ , but i'm not promising anything.
> 
> much love, and [follow me on tumblr](http://malkinisms.tumblr.com) if you'd like!!

Pat does  _not_ get a little weepy when he's standing at the altar. He does  _not_ , okay, no matter what the photos are going to show, no matter that Jonny reaches up to brush away the tears on his cheeks, no matter that Jonny's the same way.

He is  _not_ shaky as Jonny slips to his knees to accept the ring that Pat chose for him, and he's not shaky as he does the same for Jonny.

He does  _not_ stutter when they say their vows, and Jonny doesn't either.

He does  _not_ cry when they kiss, or when they're introduced as Mr. Patrick and Jonathan Kane-Toews, or when they walk down the aisle and their friends and families cry and cheer them on.

(He does all of these things.)

* * *

 

Dinner is amazing, and so is the cake, and the dancing, and watching all their friends and family get  _staggeringly_ drunk.

It's made more amazing every time Pat looks over and sees Jonny next to him, color high in his cheeks, smiling and laughing. Every now and then Jonny will look over at him and smile, the smile that he reserves for when Pat's done something especially good. It makes his stomach clench and swoop, and his pulse race in his throat.

Jonny's his  _husband_. Jonny's going to be his  _mate_.

"Hey," Jonny says near the end of the reception, where he ha Pat cornered by the DJ and far from the bar, where everyone else is hanging out, "we got married."

"Yep," Pat says, popping the "p", grinning.

Jonny leans down and presses his forehead to Pat's, eyes closed. "We're going to mate."

"Yes," Pat says, tilts his head a little so that he can kiss Jonny, wrap his hand loosely around his wrist and rub his thumb over his cuff, "yes we are."

Jonny wiggles a little, kind of like a puppy, and he smiles and leans back. "You're gonna be my  _alpha_."

"Mmm," Pat says, brings the wrist with the cuff to his lips and presses a kiss there before saying, "and you're going to be my omega."

Jonny smiles and blushes. It looks good.

He can smell the very beginning of it - faintly sweet and tacky, just at the base of Jonny's neck, and it makes Pat shiver a little. Tonight, Jonny's going to heat and Pat will work him through it, and at the end - they'll be mates.

Mutt barrels into Jonny's side, cuddling against his shoulder and nipping at his jaw, because - well, because he's Mutt, and Jonny lets him, and Pat knows that Mutt's not a threat.  Bolly is close behind him, faintly amused as Jonny hugs Mutt close and peppers him with kisses until Andy's laughing and squirming.

"Jonny," Mutt whines, "Jonny, love you, but gonna - hotel."

"That's okay, Andy," Jonny says, and Pat takes a deep breath, and -  _oh_. Well, it seems like someone else is going to heat, too, and Bolly smiles at Pat, because he's smug and pleased with himself.

Mutt squirms out from Jonny's arms and into Pat's, and he feels strange because he's hugging another omega, who's almost in heat, with his boyfriend right there, but neither of them smell like anything other than genuine happiness.

"So happy, Patty, you and Jonny, so happy," he says, rubs his nose on the bottom of Pat's jaw before sliding out of his arms and back into Bolly's.

"Go get a glass of water, and drink it all, slowly, ok?" Bolly says, and Mutt nods, eyes a little glassy, and does what he's told.

"Congrats, guys," he says after watching to make sure Mutt does what he's told, "I'm really - I'm so fucking happy for you."

"Thanks, Bolly," Pat says, pulls him in for a hug and whispers, "your turn."

Bolly turns bright red and settles for smiling bashfully, and Pat grins in turn.

He hugs Jonny, too, before turning to collect Mutt.

Slowly, people start to leave, until it's just their immediate families, and the Sharps.

Patrick wobbles over (Pat does not think he's been this tanked since the Cup) and slumps against Jonny, and Pat can't hear or understand what he's saying. Abby give Pat a hug, smiling, says, "It was a great ceremony and party, Pat, it really was."

Sharpy straightens up and both he and Jonny are sniffling, which is - strange, but then Sharpy bundles him up in a hug, too, before pulling away and leaning on Abby to shuffle to the waiting cab.

Jonny pulls him in close, breath stuttering in his chest, and he really - Jonny smells  _really_ good, like, better than pretty much anything that Pat could think of, and - "I love you," Pat mutters, "I really, really do."

"I love you," Jonny says, nuzzles his temple, "Sharpy just rambled something about being perfect together and then started crying about how happy he is, and it was - infectious."

Pat holds back the "your  _mom's_ infectious," because A. Andrée is right there, and B. Andrée is  _right there_. Also, Jonny pinches really, really hard when he makes "your mom" jokes.

Jonny sighs then, and says, "Go ahead, Pat," and Pat tries  _really hard_ to not do it, but - "Your mom's infectious!!" and he laughs like a schoolgirl.

"Consider that my wedding gift to you," Jonny says flatly, and Pat laughs even harder.

* * *

The hotel suite is  _amazing_. Pat, of course, has to check everything out, the kitchen, the living room, the balcony, saving the bedroom for last, but when he gets there - Jonny's already down to nothing but his boxers and socks, and - oh, holy  _shit_. _  
_

He smells like a fucking  _buffet_ , sweet and slick and sticky, and Pat - Christ, he can see Jonny soaking through the back of his boxers, how his thighs are twitching as he lifts up a foot to take his socks off.

God, he didn't know that Jonny was already - that - wow.

"Oh," he says, faintly, and Jonny turns to look at him, cheeks flushed so red that they must be burning, "wow, you - fucking  _fuck_ , Jonny."

It's like all of his life has lead up to this moment, this blip of his existence, and it leads him to the one person that he ever thought he could make a life with, and he can, he  _is_. He doesn't know what to do, what part of Jonny he should touch first.

He can feel his pulse in his throat as his mouth is simultaneously watering and dry as he looks at Jonny, his husband, his  _mate_.

And Jonny - Jonny strips out of boxers and walks over to him, and - he kneels, slowly, sitting on his heels, head tilted back and throat on display. Jonny's never,  _never_ presented to him, because the both of them think it's demeaning unless it's at an agreed upon time, and - Jonny doesn't smell like he's not happy about it, he smells fucking  _pleased as punch_ with himself.

"Think you're so smart," Pat mutters, "you're so smug, babe."

Jonny grins up at him, because he  _knows_ that Pat likes this, likes seeing Jonny in ways that he'll be the only one to  _ever_ see.

"Know what I like," he mutters, stripping off his tux jacket and tie, holding his wrists down to Jonny, who unclips his cufflinks and puts them in his hand, "using it to your advantage, you sneaky fucker."

Jonny's grin widens, the tip of his tongue poking through his teeth.

It's good that Jonny knows he's fucking with him, because if they didn't stay joking - Pat would be fucking him through the  _floor_ right now, and that's too fast for them, even for Jonny, who's been complaining about Pat's need to keep him from hurting and how Pat always works him open on his fingers rather than just  _fucking_ him (even though Pat hasn't fucked him ever, because - well, because once Pat makes up his mind, he makes up his _mind_ , and he said he wouldn't knot Jonny until  _this moment_ ).

He gets his pants off, tossing them in the pile with Jonny's (because it's always obvious whose clothes belong to whom, because of Jonny's epic ass) and then his shirt, and when he turns to face Jonny, Jonny drags his tongue across his lower lip. Pat doesn't think that he's aware he's doing it, but.

Jesus  _fucking_ Christ.

"Okay," Pat says, "I am going to go wash my face. When I come back, you'll be on your back on the bed."

Pat turns away, walks to the bathroom while trying to ignore his dick as it presses against his boxers, begging him to go back in there, and washes his face. He looks at himself in the mirror for a moment, shocked that this is his life, that he and Jonny finally got this sorted out, that they're  _finally_ together.

He leaves the bathroom.

Jonny's on his back, knees splayed wide, already three fingers deep.

His head's thrown back, other hand wrapped around the base of his dick; Pat can  _taste_ how close he is, a salty tang on the back of his tongue, and he  _wants_ it.

"Stop," he says, and Jonny freezes, eyes snapping open. Pat knows that there's alpha in his voice and he doesn't mean to use it, but it's just going to happen - because Jonny's almost full into his heat now.

"You finish now, that's all you'll get tonight," he says, and Jonny whines high in his throat. He slips his fingers out with a wet noise, fucking  _filthy_ and  _wonderful_. He rolls slowly, like Pat's a predator, gets on his knees and  _presents_ himself, perfect fucking lordosis behavior.

Pat feels momentarily bad, because he pretty much just threw Jonny headfirst into his first heat with a virile alpha in the room but he's not thinking about that any more. He's thinking about how  _his_ omega was getting  _himself_ off without him, and how that is  _so not fair_.

He doesn't want to play dirty, but the moment called for it. He climbs up on the bed behind Jonny, puts one hand in the middle of his shoulders and strokes his back, and Jonny  _relaxes_ , turns his head to the side so he can see Pat and grins, though it's a  _filthy fucking grin_.

He presses up against Jonny's ass, still in his boxers, and ruts against him; Jonny's leaking all over himself, all over  _Pat_ , and Pat knows that when he fucks Jonny it's going to be easy.

"Who do you belong to?" Pat asks, hands tight on Jonny's hips, grinding him back onto his still-clothed dick.

Jonny doesn't answer for a second, mouth open and tongue darting out, until he gets enough moisture onto his tongue and whispers, "You, Pat."

"Yeah, you do. That's right, baby. Now, who do  _I_ belong to, Jonny?"

Jonny closes his eyes and lets out a little sob, arching his back even more, so severe that Pat thinks it must hurt. "Jonny," he prompts, rubbing his thumbs in the dimples of Jonny's back, "who do I belong to?"

"Me," Jonny sobs, "me, it's me," and Pat lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and slides down the bed enough that he can hold open Jonny's ass and dive in, tongue first.

He tastes different in heat; he tastes like  _more_ , really, that's the only way that Pat can describe it. It's like everything he's ever wanted, Jonny all around him, in him, begging for  _him_.

He gets lost in it, eating Jonny out. He loves it in a way that would be embarrassing, but Jonny's the only one that knows about it, so who cares. What matters is that it gets Jonny going, and it does, more than anything else.

Jonny's making these high-pitched noises, clutching at the sheets and the pillows and his own hair, mouth open wide and eyes squeezed shut.

Pat pulls away with a deliciously dirty noise, climbs up Jonny to get to his mouth and kiss him. He needs it like he needs to breathe, and Jonny kisses him like he's dying, like Pat's the only thing left in the world.

When Pat pulls away, Jonny's eyes are blown black, almost all pupil, and Pat knows that he's deep into his heat, now; if he couldn't see it, he could  _smell_ it, how everything smells like Jonny, bright and sharp and perfect.

"Hey," he says, and Jonny focuses on him, "I love you."

"Alpha," Jonny says, twists so that his ass is still in the air but he faces Pat a little more, presses his thumb into Pat's lower lip, and says, "love you."

"You want me to mate you, Jonny? You gotta tell me if you want that, baby."

Jonny nods, grips Pat's wrist so hard he knows that it's going to bruise. "Please, Pat. Please."

"Okay," Pat says, "okay."

He wiggles out of his boxers, being sure to stay as close to Jonny as he can, because leaving him - right now, he can't, he  _can't_ leave Jonny. He sits back on his heels for a second, blood pounding in his ears, fingers tingling with sensation.

He strokes over Jonny's hips, up his back and to his shoulders, down an arm to grip his hand for a moment, rub over his wedding ring.

They're  _married_. Pat shivers, presses a kiss to the small of Jonny's back, and spreads his knees a little more so he can fit between them.

"Ready, Jonny?"

Jonny's licks along his lower lip again, spreads his legs even more, and nods.

"Good," Pat murmurs, "good."

He wants to remember this moment forever, how Jonny looks, how he smells, how he curves perfectly around Pat's legs, the smattering of freckles over his shoulders, the bruises that are still fading from their last game.

He wants to remember they moment they mate; he doesn't want to forget it for  _anything_.

His knot's just starting to swell, just a little, and  _shit_ , he's never had that happen, not with anyone, not even when he's jerking off with Jonny, or Jonny sucks his cock.

He lets out a hum and shuffles up behind Jonny, swiping the head of his cock over Jonny's hole, just - taking this in, teasing himself, teasing Jonny.

Jonny whines again, rocking backwards, trying to get Pat's dick for himself, and yeah, Pat can't deny him any longer, and begins to press in.

It's fucking - Jonny's slick, and wet, and burning hot, and Pat - he didn't  _know_ , he never knew what it could be like with someone that you have as close a bond as he has with Jonny. He knows he's making stupid noises, like, really stupid ones, gasping and moaning and saying parts of words, but - it doesn't matter.

Jonny matters, more than anything, and he's - shit, Jonny's crying out against the sheets, little shrill exhalations of breath, arms shaking and knuckles white.

"Oh, fuck," Pat mutters once he's completely seated in Jonny, knot just beginning to tug at the rim of his hole when Pat pulls out, slow and careful, and slides back in.

"Pat," Jonny whimpers, hooks a foot around the bend in his knee after a little wiggling, "more,  _harder_."

Pat's not going to make him ask twice. If there's anything that Pat can do, it's listen to what Jonny tells him.

He starts fucking him, like,  _really_ fucking him, nothing left to give, no matter what; Jonny's hot and tight and absolutely  _perfect_.

"So good, Jonny," Pat says, and Jonny tightens up around his dick and yeah, he's gonna keep talking. "You take my cock so well, like you were made for me, to take my knot. You're gonna, right? Take it all, let me tie you so fucking good that you won't know where I start and you begin, huh? You're gonna take everything I give you, and you're gonna  _like_ it, because you're so good, you're the best omega, Jonny."

"Pat," Jonny moans, and it's like he's going to say something more but can't, not as Pat starts fucking him harder, and the bed begins to creak. Pat wonders if there's someone on the other side of the wall, and how if there is, they've gotta know that someone's getting a good dicking on the other side.

"Yeah, baby, I'd knock you up if I could, get you fat with my pups, breed you proper," Pat rumbles, leaning over Jonny a little more, knowing that Jonny likes it when Pat covers him, "you'd like that, I bet, knowing that it was me that got you that way, huh?"

Jonny doesn't answer, but tilts his head back, mouth open, and he fucking  _comes_ , without even touching his dick, without  _Pat_ touching him, and oh my god it's over so quick because the feeling of Jonny coming around him,  _because_ of him - it tips Pat over and his knot's swelling so fast it almost hurts.

Jonny's making breathless little "ah!"s of pleasure as Pat shoves in deep, until he tries pulling out and can't because his knot's locked them together.

He can't - he can't stop his hips from rocking in and out, still, little abortive thrusts that rocket up his spine and to his toes. "Fuck," he says, "fuck, fuck,  _fuck_."

Jonny's moaning as Pat leans down over him, biting at his shoulder a little, still coming.

And then - it's like something comes together in his head, because he can smell Jonny like there's nothing to it, knows what he is feeling like Jonny's a  _part_ of him.

Jonny's sated, happy; he wants more, will want more as the night goes on until his heat breaks, but - right now, he's fucking  _glowing_ with it.

He moves them gently so that he's spooning Jonny, who's boneless and grinning, eyes half-shut and completely dilated.

He shoves his nose behind Jonny's ear, breathes him in deep, then licks at his neck before pressing his mouth against Jonny's skin, sucking a mark in deep until Jonny's rocking back on his cock again in tiny movements. Pat slides a hand down from Jonny's hip to his dick, hard  _again_ , and shit, Pat wishes (not for the first time) that he had the whole multiple-orgasm thing going for him, but. It's not so bad, though, because at least he can feel smug in that  _he's_ giving Jonny all these orgasms.

It's enough to make anyone really, really smug.

(Pat might have the monopoly on "really, really smug" right now.)

"Please," Jonny whines, touching Pat's wrist, stroking his thumb over Pat's knuckles.

Well, Pat's not going to make him beg their first night. He knows by now what Jonny likes, how his likes it fast but loose, how Pat can be rougher with Jonny's dick because he's uncut where Pat is.

"Come on, babe," Pat says, licks over the hickey he's just left, rotates his hips a little, and - Jonny wails and comes again, and Pat can't  _not_ laugh, gleeful in how responsive Jonny is, how fucking lucky they are.

Jonny shoves his hand away after a few more rough tugs, takes a few deep breaths before he relaxes.

"Mmf," he says, "gimme," takes Pat's hand off his hip, and - god _damn_ , licks his own come off Pat's fingers.

Well, shit.

It doesn't help when Jonny tightens up around him, and Pat comes a little more, because Jonny knows how to play him, somehow, even though this is their first time, and - oh.  _Oh my god_.

"This was our first time," Pat whispers, rubbing his nose along Jonny's neck, licking up the sweat, "our first time, ever, as husbands, as  _mates_ , Jonny."

"Uh huh," Jonny says, still not all the way verbal, yet, and Pat's surprised that  _he_ can talk now.

"I love you," Pat whispers, touching Jonny's ring, then his cuff.  "We can switch your cuff, now."

Jonny nods, but tucks his hand under his rib cage; Pat grins against his skin. "Yeah, all right, we'll wait, babe."

* * *

It takes Pat knotting him three times through the night and to morning, six orgasms (one of them almost dry), and many,  _many_ hickies before Jonny's heat breaks.

Jonny collapses on the couch, where they knotted last, and Pat wants to follow him, but: "I'm gonna call for new sheets and breakfast, okay?"

"Mm hmm," Jonny hums, smiling as Pat rubs over his back.

He gets as much food as he can, because he knows that even though Jonny's napping now, he's going to be fucking _famished_ once the food comes up.

He gets a washcloth and a towel, makes his way around the debris and back to Jonny. He touches his shoulder gently and begins to wipe him down, because, like, he needs to take care of Jonny.

He knows it's just the alpha in him, but he knows that at this moment, Jonny won't mind. Jonny hums as Pat touches him, lets Pat roll him over and wipe him down, press soft kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his lips.

He gets the blanket from the bedroom and lays it over Jonny, because he knows Jonny's  _thisclose_ to sacking out; he puts on pants for when breakfast comes, but cuddles up to Jonny before it comes.

Jonny naps for a bit, before stirring and moving around to look up at Pat from his lap.

"Hi," he says, and his voice is rough and really,  _really_ _hot._  Pat is turned on, but he doubts he can get it up again today. Tonight, maybe, but not now.

"Hi, sweetheart," Pat says, scratching his nails through Jonny's hair, contentment soaring through the roof as Jonny smiles sweetly, all dimples and teeth.

"You're the best alpha," he says, "'n your mine, 'n I love you."

"And you're the best omega there ever was," Pat says, leaning down to kiss him.

Jonny kisses like it might be the last kiss when it's just them, and he  _loves_ that. He likes the soft, sweet ones that he gets in public just as much, but - they're different, but just as good.  And then, it hits him.

"Oh my god," he says, "we're  _that couple_."

"What?"

"We're  _that couple_ , Jonny. We're cute in public, we kiss and cuddle, our friends are happy for us but a little grossed out. We're  _that couple_ ," Pat says, "oh  _no_ , now I can't make fun of Sharpy and Abby, Jonny, what will I do?"

We lets his head flop back and he groans while Jonny laughs. No, he's not fucking laughing - Jonny's  _giggling_.

"Thank you for your concern," Pat grumbles, but Jonny only laughs harder.

"Patrick," he says, "we've  _been_ that couple for a while."

"Goddammit," Pat mutters, and there's a knock on the door.

Pat goes to get the food, because Jonny's still in a fit of the giggles.  When he comes back, he says, "You know, if you keep up like this, you're going to lose all that scary captain-y-ness."

Jonny just makes grabby-hands at the pieces of cantaloupe and says, "Oh, no, I'm so sad."

"Eat your breakfast," Pat says. Jonny does.

* * *

When they get back to Chicago from their honeymoon (okay, they go to Winnipeg for a week and then Buffalo and it's more like a  _vacation_ than a honeymoon but Jonny _insisted_ he didn't want that, but Pat's planning on a trip to the Keys before the summer's out) they go back to Jonny's apartment - only to find it decorated and filled with gifts, and Jonny kind of lights up like a Christmas tree, blushing and stammering and he flops down on the couch and covers his face with his hands.

"Yo, free shit, Jonny! The best kind of swag."

"Oh my  _god_ ," Jonny moans, "you know we have to write thank you cards for these."

"What?" Pat yelps, "Thank you cards? Oh man, not fair, we gave them food and booze and shit, baby, they should be thanking  _us._ "

Jonny groans. "This is why we can't have nice things, Patrick. Because you lack the proper social upbringing and knowledge of social niceties."

"I got you, don't I?" Pat says, slings himself over the back of the couch and kisses his way up Jonny's neck to bite his earlobe softly. "You're the nicest thing in my whole world, Jonny. Not to - sound possessive, or something. I'm rolling with the phrase, babe."

"Jesus Christ," Jonny grumbles, "just get over here."

Pat goes.

He presses a kiss to Jonny's cheek, runs his fingers over his cuff on his right hand, then grabs his left and kisses his wedding ring.

"You've got me," Jonny says, "for good. Can't even get rid of me if you tried."

Pat loops an arm around his shoulders, pulls him down a little, and slants a kiss across his cheekbone. "I would never try."

"Ugh," Jonny says, "we really are that couple."

"Yep."

"At least we're cute," Jonny says, "well,  _I_ am, at least."

Pat pinches him.

(He's not wrong, though. Jonny  _is_ cute. Pat tells him so, makes Jonny squirm, and fucks him over the edge of the couch until Jonny cries.

Being married and mated is, like, the best thing  _ever_.)

 


End file.
